


Hitlist

by tymewarps



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Game Grumps, Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: ACAB, Actor is a bittchhhh, Adapting to the Future, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Demons, Dimension Travel, Dreams and Nightmares, Fights, Gen, Ghosts, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I honestly dont have a plan for this, Kidnapping, Lucid Dreaming, Magic, Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Medical Inaccuracies, Memory Loss, Monsters, Police, Possession, Regeneration, Rescue Missions, Sort Of, Symbolism, Torture, Transformation, Zombies, black goop powers wooo, he aint fuckin bendy pants or whatever his name is, its literally the liquid form of death lmao, its not ink, just wingin this one, oh just so yall know, takes place in 2015
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tymewarps/pseuds/tymewarps
Summary: After Actor Mark is sealed away in the Mirror Plane by Dark, Dark finds himself far in the future. After coming to terms the amount of time he had spent to keep Mark trapped, he sets out a quest to find the manor. What he doesn't realize however, is that many of his friends have stuck around, and some new friends will meet him in due time.Mark has his own plans, however, and once he finds an exit from the other plane, he is dead set on revenge.
Relationships: Damien | The Mayor/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache, Illinois/Yancy, Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Suzy Berhow/Arin Hanson, Wilford Warfstache/Darkiplier, Yancy/Illinois
Kudos: 21





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically what will happen in Dark's part of 'We All Start Nowhere,' except in Actor's POV. Hope you enjoy the rat man's antics :)
> 
> Also this is just the prologue, so it's not very long at all. The future chapters will be much longer.

  
  


First, there was cracking. Horrible creaks wailed out into the man's bleeding ears. Then came the aching within his soul; a pulsing pain that would have killed any mortal. The man however, was cursed within a spell of eternal death for his crimes, so giving up wasn't even an option.

It was torture and suffering that he hadn't felt in so many years. He wondered if it was painful for the man shrouded in monochrome as well, or if he was the source. The man's eyes snapped open as the pain subsided. He knew he couldn't let that bastard leave him here to suffer. He was going with him.

A glimpse of light showed the black walls of his prison had been shattered like glass, with one figure standing near the opening. The other man was calm, but made his way to the other side in a brisk pace. 

The man knew what he had to do. Although the pain was unbearable, he forced his bloodied and broken body to walk towards the other. A shrill yell erupted from him in true rage as he latched onto the monochrome figure. The other gasped as he stumbled against the wild beast's weight, and both fell roughly to the floor. The other was flustered, but the bloodied man was quicker. He charged on all fours to his enemy, daggers in his eyes.

Before the man could attack again, the other forced his hand out which sent out a wave of his strongest power. The whole void was encased in a flare of death and decay that stopped the wild attacker in his tracks. The man moaned in pain, as his limbs crumbled beneath him and black ooze leaked out of every cut on his body. The man cried thick black liquid in pure agony as the other scrambled away. All the man could see past the glaze of ooze was the shape of the man leaping out of the void and the cracks sealing away back to perfection in an instant.

The man was coughing up a mix of mucus, blood, and ooze that flowed like a faucet. It certainly should have killed him, but he was already dead. He was stuck in this pain with barely any movement. All the man could do was wail out into the abyss his promises to find the man once more.

After a few sobs and coughs, the power from the monochrome man started to fade. He regained his sight and voice, yet the agony remained.

"DAMIEN! _DAMIEN_!" he screeched to nobody, "I'LL FIND YOU DAMIEN! YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE FOREVER!"


	2. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actor finds a loophole, a new power, and a doppelganger all in one sitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Sorry I was gone for so long. Personal matters, lmao. I edited this chapter to have it be Marc's own body instead of Damien's because I realized that wouldn't make sense for the story I plan to write. I also changed his name from Mark to Marc to prevent confusion between the two.
> 
> Sorry I haven't been posting much! I'll just be honest, I didn't feel like writing lol. Hope you enjoy my take on the WKM plotline though. 
> 
> Also to clarify: Time has no rules in the Mirror Plane, so it was a random amount of time that passed by the time Dark got out. (Which just happened to be 1965.) Since time is random, the events after only seem like a few months to Actor, but he actually gets out in 2016. By that time, Dark has been in a relationship with Wilford, almost all of the egos are discovered and living in the manor, with Mark not yet knowing that he too had a shattered soul. 
> 
> This basically takes place 5 or so years before Discovering Another Side. By those statements, I bet you can guess who his 'helpers' turn out to be. :)

The actor pushed his frail corpse up from the obsidian-black floor, grunting a curse that rumbled in his throat. Time didn't have rules in this dimension, so the time Marc was trapped in the mirror prison could have been from an hour to decades. He wondered if anyone he'd known was even alive, or if it had only been a few days in the real world since his imprisonment. Would anyone have cared?They had two baby boys, which the actor didn't necessarily care to tend to before, but a small part of him wished they were doing well. Still, that didn't matter, he convinced himself; however long, it had felt like an eternity anyway. The actor knew he was vile, but he relished in his evil and was not willing to let his control of the twins- or whatever they had become -go.

He stared at the glossy wall that stood before him menacingly. It's cracks were sealed shut, leaving him too weak to break a new opening. The man stumbled his way awkwardly to the glass, pressing his face against it. Of course, he couldn't see out of it, but it was covered in dust that tickled Marc's bleeding nose. The surface was cool to the touch, giving a slight numb to his painful injuries.

He moved his face away from the opening, noticing that his face left a print where dust had been before. That didn't make sense; was the dust not on the outside? Curiosity dragged his finger to the glass, and sure enough, he could write on it. Damien wasn't here to fight him away from discovering this now. A grin twisted onto his face, with the blood and tar-like ooze still coating it.

Marc had an idea.

He shifted his fingers in attempt to write in the small space the mirror provided him, etching each letter in delight. A small giggle passed through his lips, knowing that this fight wasn't over just yet.

He stepped back in glee to view his handiwork, and in a scraggly font that was flipped backwards, (so that it would look normal to the opposite side,) it spelled his message.

**"PLEASE HELP. TAKE MIRROR TO MARC IPLIER'S GRAVE. TOWN OF LOS ANGELES."**

He attempted to be as specific and clear as possible while also keeping his words condensed. He figured Damien and Celine's bodies had been buried, but he wasn't sure of his own. Sure, he may have been in possession of his reanimated body for a short bit, but only long enough to hold a stable form as the twins trapped him in the Mirror Plane. So, he was separated from the body after that, unlike the twins, who still held the D.A's. He pondered where the mirror had ended up- considering time, it could have still been in the manor -and what condition it might be in. His hopes were low, but there. Even if it was covered in piles of trash or locked away in a chest, Damien and Celine had to get out someway, leaving the mirror exposed no matter where it resided.

Now he just had to wait. It was that simple right?

It wasn't that simple.

After what seemed like months of goofing around and endless naps, Marc was losing any sense of humanity left in him. His body had healed fairly well, yet gnarled and nasty scars still persisted from the 'decades' of the twins beating him to the ground in the realm. He found that his eyes would occasionally ooze that black substance of pure death and bile, but he taught himself to control it. The more in possession he became of the goo, the more it turned from an inconvenience to a power. He could produce a flood of it from his eyes and mouth that pulled into balls in his hand. As if he was telekinetic, Marc had the ability to swoosh the liquid at high forces. How had the twins even gotten this magic after death anyways?

One day, while practicing his skills, a deep grumble came from the ground that knocked him to his knees. He ceased his training as he tried to move through was seemed like an earthquake to the mirror. There was a shadowy figure holding it, reading.

Holy shit, it was _working_.

He saw the figure shrug, then turn to the side to begin talking. Marc couldn't read their lips, but judging from the moving of the frame, this human had taken him up on his offer. He could feel the person's weight as they walked, and then took a soft seat. The mirror was presumably now laying in their lap, as Marc could see their chin and hair that flopped around their silhouette like a blanket.

Yes... YES. **YES.**

A small bumping came, almost like they were riding in a horse carriage, but much smoother and consistent. The actor wasn't sure if it was just a really trained horse, or time had passed such a considerable amount that a different way of travel was invented. After a long ride, a break of the mirror being seated away from the savior and another silhouette having a conversation, another shorter ride, he was finally there. he could feel as the shadow trotted their way to the grave, indicated by the millions of glowing lights that represented all of the dead's bodies. But his eye spotted a very particular one.

An entrancing glow burst from a certain grave, shining a beautiful crimson. Out of the thousands of vibrant vessels in the graveyard, Marc's stuck out like a sore thumb. It was odd that his was not a full ball of light like the others, and instead it seemed like a small piece of one. The mirror was then flipped back to the shadow. Marc needed to write something to get what he needed..

**"PUT MIRROR FACE DOWN ON GRAVE PLEASE. THEN LIFT IT."**

As he wrote, the shadows from the outside world panicked, looking at each other in disbelief as the actor snickered at their reactions. His plan was finally coming together after so long. The couple complied, and placed Marc's view directly in the blue light. The mirror began to crumble at will, and Marc couldn't contain his giddiness. Once there was a big enough hole, he made his way out.

The mirror was lifted, but the shadow had noticed it was reduced to shards. Strange, nothing else had happened. Where did the-

_cCRUUUUNCchhhh..._

The couple stared at each other. Did the ground just move? Splintering sounds erupted from beneath and the dirt puffed up above. The two stumbled back in a panicked state. A rotted, grey hand slipped up from beneath as the noises grew louder. Then came the other hand.

After the man had dug himself out, he turned to face his helpers with a shit-eating grin on his maggot infested face. He was covered in gnarled cuts and bits of bone peaking through his decayed body. His suit was torn and battered, covered in head to toe with soil. Ribs poked out from one of his sides, the power of his deceased soul being the only thing keeping the body together. One eye was so withered that it looked like a shriveled prune, but the other was fairly usable. Teeth were toddling their way out of the frightening corpse's mouth as he sagged and leaned to ground himself.

The only problem was that one out of the two terrified people before him was a bit too familiar. Save the red hair, futuristic glasses, and strange attire, the man looked identical to the actor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, cars were a thing at the time of Actor's death, but they weren't a super mainstream thing and were extremely bumpy, even on flat ground. (Which there also wasn't much of, as most roads were made of brick in the 20's.) Remember that Actor is only going off of feeling and what he can see, which is living people's silhouette and the souls of the dead.


	3. Reanimated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc learns a bit about the future, and Mark learns a lot about the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAHHH I NEED TO POST MOREEE
> 
> that's it, that's the post.  
> lmao

"What the actual _fuck_?!"

Actor's senses were slowly coming back to him when he heard the man speak. The man and woman who had freed him were frozen in terror as his vile corpse attempted to speak. Marc coughed up a phlegm-like substance which tickled his vocal cords. After a few coughs and pounds on the chest, he managed a weak, cracked 'Hello'.

"Who... How did you just," the man trailed off and paced while his partner, the woman with brown hair stood unblinking at the sight of the actor. "Hi?" she said in a barely audible whisper. 

"I'm sure you folks have quite a few questions," Marc said in a hoarse voice, "But maybe we should go someplace more private," he tried to laugh, but it only resulted in more blood and mucus gurgling out of his throat. He plucked a maggot off of his shoulder and made his way to stand in front of the pair, gesturing towards the thicker forest surrounding the rows of gravestones. The actor wasn't exactly expecting it to be broad daylight when he was freed.

The group silently walked (Marc more-so wobbled like a toddler with his decayed legs) and found themselves in a secluded area surrounded by trees. The actor was beginning to feel hunger after so many years. As his stomach grumbled, the group sat in the grass.

The man with red hair spoke first. "Why do you look like me?" he stuttered, rephrasing, "Well not now, but in your picture." The man held up a photograph of the actor from his glory days. He recognized that photo, which used to have William and Damien by his side, but it seemed to have been ripped at both sides of the original picture, leaving only Marc.

"My goodness, wherever did you get _that_ photograph? This was one of my favorites, a shame it's been tattered after time," The actor was handed the photo. On the backside it read, " **Marc Iplier, 19//, Related to ?** " He chuckled, muttering mostly to himself, "I sure do miss those days."

The couple just stared at each other with confused expressions, so he continued. "May I ask what you two's names are?"

"I- I'm Amy," the woman spoke with an unease in her words. The man also replied, "Mark. With a 'K,' unlike yours. And we're dating."

"It's a pleasure to meet you two fine people, even though I would have rather had my body been in a better state than this," He motioned down to his legs with chunks of decayed skin and bone, which contained maggots and other crawling critters that would have given the actor excruciating pain- that is, if he still had any nerve endings left. "What year is it?"

Mark gulped, "Uh, it's 2016."

_No. Had it really been that long? When did Dark get out? Was he even still alive?_

"Oh, I see. Wow, it's been... longer than I expected," he grumbled, "I guess fate takes it's sweet time though. I'm not exactly sure why we look alike or why our names parallel each other so much, but either way I can not thank you enough. Being stuck in that mirror was torturous!" A manic laugh erupted from the actor, which made the couple jump.

"Actually, I may know why. My friend- Sean -he has people in his family that look exactly like him. Well, they aren't related _exactly_. They were all part of the same soul and got split up or something like that... At least that's what Marvin says. He knows some magic. It's apparently rare, but I think that's what's going on here," Mark rambled on, "I think we're bits of the same soul."

Marc pondered for a moment, taking in the information. He remembered Damien and William, how everyone thought they looked so similar despite not being related. Obviously if magic and ghosts were a thing, it made sense for this phenomenon to be real too. "Interesting," he said blankly as his stomach roared in protest of being completely empty. "I'm sorry if it's a bother to ask, but do you have anything to eat?"

"Uh sure," Mark reached into his back pocket and pulled out a colorful rectangle. He peeled back the wrapper to reveal a granola bar and tossed it to the reanimated man.

"Thank the heavens," he cried as he gnawed into the bar, eyebrows lifting in surprise at how sweet it was. "Future food sure is sweet, but I don't mind." He ate the bar like a rabid dog, scarfing every morsel into his rotted body.

"What was your life like?" Mark broke the silence after the other had finished his meal. "I've done a lot of research on you- well at least on what little I could find -but it seems something went array at the time of your death? Were you murdered?" Mark figured he didn't have to be touchy about the subject, as Marc was perfectly fine and unquestioning about possessing his 100 year old corpse.

"You could say that," he chuckled, "My wife Celine, she was a wonderful woman. Yet a man- someone I assumed my friend, William -snatched her away from me. He eventually came back, apologizing and whatnot. In an attempt to get on better terms, I invited him to a mansion party, but it didn't work out because-" He stopped short, not wanting to reveal all the terrible things he'd done. He needed the support from these people to build strength. Then he could enact his plan.

"Uh, because, well honestly I don't remember why. It's been a long time in that mirror. William shot me once he was drunk, and I died but still was roaming the manor as a spirit. I may have been a bit angry and brash, and _may_ have accidentally killed Damien- Celine's twin brother -and Celine may have... also... died." He chuckled awkwardly, trying a new excuse, "It wasn't my fault, from what I remember. But memories get foggy after decades in a dark mirror imprisonment. I'd like to think I'm a different man now."

"Oh, uh..." Mark sat stunned, unsure of his safety, before stuttering out another question, "How did you get in that mirror?"

"Well when the twins passed, we fought and got pushed into the mirror. Our friend," he hesitated, trying to recall the name, "I don't remember their name, but they were the District Attorney. The twins made a deal with the D.A, and tried to possess their live body and have all three of their spirits in one body. Something went wrong, and their living body containing the twin's souls were pushed into the mirror and their soul got left behind. So both me, and Celine and Damien in the D.A's body were trapped in a void together," He huffed, finishing his explanation.

"That's confusing," Amy mumbled.

"Tell me about it. I had to fight them off for centuries; they thought it was my fault!"

 _It was your fault._ He shook his head.

"By the time they escaped, I don't think they were separate people at that point. They kind of just... became a new person after being together for so long. I don't know where they went."

The couple stared nervously before Amy spoke up, "Well you can stay with us, I suppose," she cringed as she spoke, staring in disgust at the rotting flesh before her.

"Oh I'm sorry about the bugs. I believe my body will regenerate after some time but your magic friend could always help out. What was that fellow's name again? Mason?"

"Marvin," Mark smiled, "And I suppose he could try and come over, although they live far away from here. Besides, that will give you time to adjust to the world. Things are very different from," he trailed off. "When did you die again?"

_When did you die?_

_I can barely remember anymore._

"1929, I think. Thank you."

"No problem," Amy chirped up, "We've dealt with magic and demons before, I'm sure this will be a breeze, right Mark?" she leaned over to her boyfriend with a crooked smile of concern.

"Yeah," Mark mumbled, "I'm sure this will be fine." He had a feeling it wouldn't be, but didn't have a confirmed reason to distrust Marc yet.

_Yet._

"Okay, time to go off! Do you have horses? Or I suppose everyone has automobiles nowadays."

Mark just chuckled, "Wait until you see what a computer is buddy, you'll be amazed."

His plan worked. Now it was on to phase two.


	4. Meltdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc just can't seem to remember someone in his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL I MADE MYSELF CRY WITH THIS ONE HAHAH
> 
> And I made it way too long so I'm just adding another chapter to this story! yippie more content. Also, the song isn't some super deep metaphor, I just looked up "songs everyone knows" on Google and clicked the first list. The lyrics seemed extremely fitting so I based the scene around that. It wasn't a planned scene, unlike the second part of this. (Or I guess the next chapter.)
> 
> Also if you know what the voice in bold is referencing, give yourself a gold star! I was animating to one of his songs earlier and thought it would be perfect to put a little nod to my favorite artist. :) I worked super hard on this one, so enjoy~

Mark wasn't kidding when he said living 100 years in the future would be a culture shock for the actor, as he was somehow fascinated by everything he saw. He knew he was most likely criminally insane, as he was already a diagnosed sociopath even before his death, but the wonders of technology still excited him. The man pressed against the car window like a child looking through a candy store front, taking in the sights of skyscrapers and airplanes zooming through the clouds. Marc couldn't help but ask a boatload of questions along the trip back to Mark's house, which added up to about twenty minutes of non-stop blathering.

As the man was seated on a towel in the back of the car- to prevent his decimated body from staining any fabric -he was slowly starting to regain control of his body in different ways. His skin was forming back like magic, albeit at a slow pace, and his senses were returning to normal. Marc wasn't sure if he would regain his missing eye, but from the research he could remember from before his death seemed to say otherwise. He frowned at that, realizing he'd never have his past image in perfection once again.

_One more reminder that I should be dead and gone._

The actor sighed and shook his head in protest of his own thoughts, which only resulted in a loose tooth plopping near his feet. With a grumble, he leaned down and shoved the rotting bone back into its socket and turned to find Amy eyeing him through the overhead mirror. She crinkled her nose before returning to the scene in front of her. Marc shivered looking at the mirror, only able to imagine the crippling feeling of being on his lonesome for years.

To distract himself, he began to ask more questions. "How different is music nowadays? I would assume playing piano hasn't gone out of fashion yet," his ripped vocal cords chirped to the couple.

"Music certainly is different now, but all the instruments from your time are still played," Mark said bluntly before adding on, "Well, most. I'm not exactly a music historian. Although there are many new types of genres and ways to play now."

"I'd be interested to hear some! Do you own any records?"

Amy chuckled as Mark replied, "Well records aren't popular anymore. People display them for show sometimes, but most people listen to their music on a phone."

"Phone? Like a telephone?" Marc asked in complete confusion.

"We'll explain it to you later, it's gonna be long," Amy smiled, "but here, put these in your ears." Amy handed Marc two strange white pieces and a glossy slab.

Marc just did what he was told, realizing the weird shape of the white beans was made to fit in an ear. The actor gasped as the 'airpods' (as Amy called them) connected and made a small noise. The screen of the phone illuminated, showing a list of songs.

"How did that noise come from these things?" he pointed dramatically towards his ears as Mark made a turn onto another road. "And this thing moved?"

"Here, just look at this list. You can interact with it, by sliding up and down," Amy demonstrated, "I picked out a few songs that pretty much everyone knows these days. You can pause and unpause using the buttons."

Marc simply nodded his head and tapped the first interesting title that came up; "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor.

The track started up in the man's ears as he sat, stunned at what was happening.

**At first I was afraid, I was petrified  
Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side  
But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong  
And I grew strong**

Marc licked his undead lips as he stared into Amy's cheerful eyes. The world moving around him became a blur compared to the song.

**I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face  
I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key  
If I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me  
Go on now, go, walk out the door**

Images as William and Damien flashed through his mind. A laugh here, a touch there. The memories were barely of substance, but the wonderful feelings of their friendship remained. His wife appeared, but he couldn't grasp a look at Celine's face that he missed so dearly before it was swept away by another memory.

**'Cause you're not welcome anymore  
Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye  
Do you think I'd crumble  
Did you think I'd lay down and die?**

He looked up in his hazed state. Was he dreaming? Did the music transport him to the past? Colors blurred and shapes smeared into one another, but one thing was completely clear in his surroundings. Celine, hands grasped together as she leaned them on the balcony, stood away from the actor. The sky was painted with glimmering stars that Marc's broken mind could _still_ remember. It was a beautiful night, one he knew he'd never forget. As he reached out towards his past lover, she swiveled around to face the starstruck actor.

But he couldn't remember. Her face was just an unfocused void of uncertainty, shapes floating that almost made what resembled a face, but were slightly askew. They stood un-moving as the song echoed through the halls faintly.

_I can't remember her face. I can't remember. I CAN'T R-_

**You can't remember what she looks like?**

_Who are you? What are you doing to me?!_

**Just make something up!** The unknown voice pounded in Marc's head.

The pleasant shapes that made up his view turned jagged and harmful to his eyes. Too many colors bursted from every seam, too much for his brain to process. He began to yell, begging to be set free. He thought after being in a colorless void that he would never grow tired of the world's vibrancy, but he was only able to scream from the pain it was bringing. Laughs and snickered bounced through the chaotic space until a screech of car tires snapped the actor out of his lucid moment.

His eyes flew open at the speed of lightning, being met with a stopped car and two faces looking absolutely _terrified_ of him. A glance down showed that he was rapidly shaking, the phone having dropped to the floor and song having been finished. Words tried to come out but only were met with a few small sobs, only making the actor even more frightened. He never cried, but yet, here he was. 

_Just the human body's natural response to stress. You're not weak._

"Holy shit what happened?" Amy rested a hand on the trembling figure.

"I d- d- don't know it j- just took me to the m- manor and-" Marc tripped on his words as he crumpled farther down into his seat.

Mark and Amy gave a quick look to each other in curiosity before he spoke, "Well we're almost home buddy, just one road down. Do you need a minute?"

"No, p- please, I just want to go h- home." The man was disgusted at his own vulnerability, quickly repositioning himself and clearing his tear tracks with the backside of his frail hand. The ride during the rest of the way home stayed chillingly silent.

After the group had gotten settled in- with the actor being seated on a towel-covered couch and covered in old blankets -Mark and Amy had a private chat.

"I can't be the only one skeptical of him," Mark began.

"Agreed. I mean, I get we couldn't just leave him there but... With the way he described his death, and the research you've done, he seems suspicious."

Mark nodded, "He seemed like a kind guy when he was talking in the car, however he can't be _completely_ all there in the head if he was stuck in that mirror for 100 years," he pressed his palms against the windowsill with a huff before glancing back to his girlfriend, "I guess we just have to trust him until we have enough reasoning not to."


	5. Brawling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big bad wolf knocks down two unsuspecting pigs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOOOOOO OKAY UHHHH WHERE TO START
> 
> I've been hyperfrixating on Game Grumps HARD recently and just needed to write about them. But I didn't really have any story ideas, so instead of Ethan and Tyler (who I initially planned) being the victims to Actor here, it's Dan and Arin. Also: I don't ship them. It's fine if you do tho!
> 
> Basically his powers are growing and he can full on turn into a goop monster, similar to something from BATIM. (Just not ink.)  
> Also he is a diagnosed sociopath in my AU. I don't have any experience with sociopaths but I've done a lot of research in an attempt to make this as accurate as possible. If you know more than I do, please tell me my inaccuracies!
> 
> Thank you!

The next few weeks went by fairly smoothly. Marvin paid a visit, breaking the bad news that he would form many scars, and would remain one-eyed. His body started healing faster each day, until it was almost fully formed. There hadn't been any other incidents since the car, but the actor outright refused to listen to any music after. He was plopped on Mark's couch, snacking on a granola bar- his new favorite food -while Mark strolled to his side.

"Amy helped you have a shower earlier, right?"

"Indeed; I really didn't realize how _pungent_ I was. I apologize for that..." He lied, stuffing the last handful of granola into his mouth with muffle to the end of his sentence. His face was blank and expressionless most of the time, unless one of the two interacted with him. He had to keep his charade up of acting like he cared about what minor inconveniences he caused, such as his odor.

"No worries. I was thinking of having a couple of friends over to film for work. Would you mind staying in my room for today?" Mark asked.

Marc stared in pondering, knowing it was for the best that he'd lay low. His plan was to sneak out in a few days, as the risk of getting discovered by others in the homewasn't one he wanted to take. He caved, replying, "I can do that. I promise not to get in your hair," he grinned devilishly. How could he make this work? He knew his powers worked still, but he was eager to test them on a human subject. Maybe this had more in store for him than he initially thought, if he kept control and played it safe.

Later in the day, Marc was able to catch a glimpse of the two other 'YouTubers' through the crack in the door. He wasn't too clear on how Mark's job worked, but they seemed to be setting up some sort of game. One was thin with an over-sized blanket of curly hair, while the other was stouter with longer, straight hair. It had a blonde streak running through the side. As the trio filmed the strange routine, Marc could hear laughter and jokes being intermixed with the conversation. The laughter toned down as Mark bellowed what seemed to be some sort of goodbye. The group stopped the cameras and the joyous commentation resumed to quiet everyday banter. What Mark said next shocked the actor, as Mark was yet to leave him alone throughout the past weeks.

"Amy and I forgot the water balloons for the next video, so we're just gonna run to the dollar store to grab them. You guys fine waiting here, or do you want to come?"

The curly one- Which Marc had learned was named 'Dan' -spoke up. "Sure, if it's only a few minutes of a trip then there's no reason we can't hang out for a little bit."

The other, Arin, quipped back, "Well unless you expect to not walk in to see me sucking Dan's dick when you come back, maybe then we should tag along." A goofy grin was plastered on his face. Marc grimaced at the man's childlike behavior.

"Arin!" Dan's voice bounded off the hallway as Mark and Amy giggled.

"Alright knuckleheads, we'll be back. Don't throw any wild parties." Marc grimaced at the mention of a party. Dan yelled back something along the lines of 'No promises', but the actor didn't quite pick it up. The front door creaked open, and after a few moments of rustling noises, it clicked closed.

Had Mark really just left him with the guests? He may have forgotten, but Mark didn't seem like the type to be so incautious. After a few minutes, the actor knew that it was his only chance to test his powers, but he kept in mind to be careful and stick to the plan. He shoved the door open slowly, only allowing a few creaks to slip out, and padded his way slowly through the hallway. With some focus, and a few forehead creases, small balls of black goo formed in his hands. He used the goop to stick to the wall, acting like suction cups for the man. He was able to coat his bare feet too, so he could completely be unseen as he moved past his unknowing victims. He crept onto the ceiling, and made his way to the living room where Arin and Dan were seated, both looking at their phones. The living room ceiling was much higher than the hallways, and with complete precision, Marc made his way onto the walls and ceiling once again.

He found the longer he used his powers, the more his eyes were filled with the goop. It didn't bother his eyesight at all, so he didn't really mind. His hands were growing pitch black, and his fingers were shaping into claws. The man was unaware that this is what came next, but the excitement and tension of a ravaging, monstrous form filled his reanimated body. He then hung upside-down, claws gripping about 7 feet above the duo, and 11 or so feet from the ground itself. The giddiness got ahead of him, and his claw scrapped the surface slightly.

"I'm not the only one hearing things, right?" Arin said impulsively to Dan, which prompted the two to look at each other.

"I heard a door creaking but I thought it was the draft in here," Dan replied in a shaky voice. "Did you just hear something move?"

The actor controlled the goop in one palm, and sent a small line of it across the ceiling like a snake, then down on the wall towards the light switch. Once the tendril flipped the lights off, the room grew dim, but still visible. It was about 8:00 pm, so the sun was about to set. The duo yelped in surprise, with Dan curling into the couch and Arin flopping up onto shaky feet.

"Who? What?" is all Dan could stutter. He wasn't a big fan of horror games, after all.

"Come here Dan," the shorter man ushered the other up off of the couch, towards the light, where a remnant of goop still was slathered on the switch. The duo, on-edge and trembling, stumbled to the switch. Arin reached his hand out and touched the substance, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "What the hell is this stuff?" He attempted to turn the switch on again, but little did he know, the goop had traveled inside a crack, causing the light to become nonfunctional.

"Arin, there's someone here! We have to leave," Dan's voice was high with adrenaline.

"Calm down Dan, Let's just get a flashlight."

The two soundlessly made their way to the kitchen, and after the noises of fumbling in drawers rang out, they were back with a flashlight. The sun was almost about to set completely. Marc grinned ear-to-ear with pure malice in his heart.

Arin flicked the light on, and scanned all around the room. Everywhere, except for up.

"If Mark is playing a prank on us, I'm gonna kill him," Dan grumbled, which Arin laughed worriedly to.

The goo was producing at rapid speeds, and the actor couldn't keep it from dripping anymore. A large droplet splatted onto the floor, followed by a few small ones. Dan and Arin, huddled together, made their way to the forming puddle and gritted their teeth.

"I think something might have flooded and it got to the electricity. Maybe it's sewage?" Arin said bluntly.

"Sure smells like it."

The actor, lost in the bliss of murderous satifaction, let a huge splash of goop slap onto the floor, causing Dan and Arin to get sprayed lightly with the stuff. They both winced when it touched their skin, proving that it could indeed harm a human. But he couldn't hold back now. 

Finally, Arin realized what was going on, and shakily pointed his light up to the actor as Dan watched.

"OH MY GOD!" Dan screamed.

Marc snarled and allowed the goop to flow off of him, releasing his grip to land on Arin. Both ran in different directions as the actor thumped onto the wooden floor with a deathly roar. He retracted his back claws to stand up, still opting to keep his front ones unsheathed.

Both seemed to be frozen, near panting with panic.

"Oh how _lovely_ it is to meet you fine fellows," Marc bellowed a crackling laugh out of his twisted throat as his eyes crinkled in pure delight. He then pounced to Dan. Dan made an indescribable sound that shook the walls, as Arin screamed and ran towards him. The man tackled Dan to the floor, holding him down steadily with a sharp claw. He stuck the daggers into Dan's skin, causing him to slightly bleed and wail in a flustered confusion. Arin grabbed a camera attached to a metal stand, and whapped the actor off with a heavy thud. He grimaced, flaring a promise of death in his eyes towards Arin. Inky goop covered the lanky man and a trail was left everywhere the actor had been.

Arin was breathing irregularly over Dan, still gripping the bulky camera as he became drenched in his sweat. "GET THE _FUCK_ AWAY!" he hollered, surprising Marc with his deep tone. Dan's eyes fluttered, mostly in shock as he wasn't injured too badly.

"Aww," the goop-covered man croaked, "I'm just having a bit of fun! It's always good to have a stand-out first impression!" He giggled manically, the thought of what consequences this encounter would bring far unseen in the corners of his mind.

"Oh, great first impression, ASSHOLE!" Arin huffed again, jousting the camera at the actor like a harpoon. It crashed into his arm, sure to leave a bruise. He cried out slightly, before roaring and charging again towards the man with the blonde streak. He managed to pummel Arin to the ground, covering him in goo immediately.

"Big mistake, pal."

He forced a flood of goop that choked his throat out onto Arin's face and into his gaping mouth. Arin was blinded by piles of sludge as he attempted to scream, only managing a pained gurgle as the vile substance contaminated his insides. Marc snickered as the man flailed in pain, but was soon knocked off onto the floor. Dan was standing over him, bleeding heavily as he pointed a kitchen knife towards the beast. He looked to be in pure agony, hair up in tufts and littered with cuts, but his face was filled with determination to protect his best friend, no matter what.

"I d- don't know WHAT you are... But y- you better get your ass away b- b- before your throat is slit," His words were wobbly but screamed certainty. He wasn't playing any games with that statement.

With a knife poking into his throat, the only thing Marc could do is grumble as Arin made pained noises in the background. The front door clicked open.

"Hey guys, sorry we took so long. But we got th-" Mark began.

"What the fuck?!" Amy turned white as she let the plastic bags she was carrying pound onto the floor. Mark froze in place.

Arin leaned up, the goop flowing out of him as he hacked and coughed. "H- Hehk, H- He- HELP!" He said, barely understandable.

"Listen, this is all a misunderstanding!" Marc shouted in fury, "I was just trying to introduce myself and they wouldn't listen!"

Dan flipped to Mark, still bleeding and huffing, plastering an 'explain. now.' look on his face before lowering the knife. His grip remained tight.

"What are you? The claws... and t- this stuff? Are you a demon?!" Mark gasped, obviously overwhelmed.

"No, I just learned how to survive in that mirror is all. It was what had to be done. I _suppose_ I'm not welcome here anymore, but it's fine," he grumbled, "I've gotten what I needed from you lowlifes." His claws formed on all limbs, and quickly the actor flipped onto the wall and crawled quickly away to another room. The sound of glass shattering pierced the air, and the actor was gone.

Dan turned around and fell to his knees next to Arin, helping him getting propped up. He ignored his own injuries and helped his friend puke up the deathly substance as Mark and Amy rushed around to grab bunches of helpful items. Mark slammed a first aid kit to the ground next to the injured duo as Amy kneeled down with wet rags and water. Dan used the wet rag to clean out Arin's eyes, who was slipping in and out of consciousness. Mark fought with Dan to patch up his injuries, Dan protesting that Arin was more important.

After both were patched up to the best of their ability, Mark called 911 for an ambulance. Amy sat next to the shaken men to comfort them.

Dan was full on sobbing, whispering "I'm sorry," and "It'll be okay Big Cat," repeatedly as he tried to recontrol his breathing. Arin occasionally coughed up more of the mucus-like substance while insisting "I'm fine now Danny, I'm okay", cuddling up next to the exhausted man. Amy sat near them, helping them gulp down some water and cleaning the goo off of both of their tattered bodies.

Mark wandered back into the living room, his throbbing head resting in his hands. "The ambulance and cops will be here soon. I need to explain... uh, _him_ to you. Do you think you need to get to the hospital or can they treat you here?"

Dan cleared his nose, mumbling. "I think I can be treated here. He only cut my chest and there's a few bruises. I- I'm not sure about him though," the thin man nodded down to Arin.

"I puked most of it out, I'll be fine. Jus' need them to fix me up a bit 's all," slurred Arin. Silence filled the room for a few moments, before he spoke again. "Who was he?"

Mark sighed in defeat, feeling as if he failed the world. "Okay, uh, you can't tell anyone this, but Sean has a few family members you don't know about. They look exactly like him; for the most part anyway. They were born with pieces of the same soul, but aren't related by blood. I know it's a lot to take in that magic is real, but you also just saw it in action, so I'm hoping you're following me here."

"Yeah, well I'm not gonna just forget that. Continue," Dan said, voice cracking slightly.

"Well apparently a soul like that is super rare. But we found one of my relatives that somehow didn't connect to anyone on the family tree. I researched him a lot but was never able to find much info on him. Well, we found out he was stuck in a mirror, and we took it to his grave. He literally dug his own body out of the dirt. H- he seemed fine... I didn't think he'd ever lay a finger on someone."

Arin, taking the information surprisingly well, asked, "How long was he living here? An' when did he die?"

"He died back in 1929. He was stuck in that mirror until two weeks ago, and he's been living here ever since. I don't know if he's just insane from imprisonment, or he was secretly like this the whole time. I- I'm just so sorry. i don't know what I was thinking, leaving him here alone."

"Please, don't apol- apolo- applogize," Arin scolded, clearly still not all there, "Is' not your fault," Arin replied. Mark just looked into the distance, feeling incredibly guilty.

"His name was also Marc, but with a 'C'. He was only living here because his corpse had to fucking regenerate over time. I bet he planned to strike once he was fully healed. He almost was, according to Marvin," Amy spat, unsure if her sadness was over-weighing her anger.

"Marvin?" Dan questioned.

"One of Sean's not-sibling-siblings; he deals with magic."

A thick blanket of silence wafted over the group as the shock was drifting away slowly. The sounds of sirens wailing was audible in the distance. Everyone seemed to take a deep breath in preparing for the arrival of the paramedics- and the police that they'd have to explain the situation to.

The only remnant of the traitor was the sludge that dripped across each surface in the room, and the broken window that the nighttime breeze flew through.


	6. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The actor is haunted by the demons of his past, while Dan and Arin are facing a few new demons of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY IM SO RANDOM WITH MY UPDATES AAAAAA
> 
> i'm not even gonna make an excuse i just forget that i have fanfics to finish for like weeks straight lmao.  
> please comment if you like this :( i really like how this is turning out so far but i haven't got much of a response yet.
> 
> :P also oops game grumps angst haha how did that slip in there?

The actor crouched below layers of crinkling leaves and foliage as sirens wailed from a distance. His plan hadn't gone exactly how he hoped, but he got the information he needed. He could definitely kill someone, even in a broken body.

The man chuckled softly, knowing how much agony Arin and Dan were going to be in. He knew how the gaining of his powers made him convulse in a pain that was loud enough to drown any screams he could have bellowed, and he knew Arin would most likely suffer the same thing. The visual of Dan's bloodied chest, glistening with beads of sweat as he stumbled to keep his composure filled Marc with pride for his handiwork.

The mentally ill were generally locked away and tortured back in his time, so the man never made an attempt to better himself, knowing his options were limited. His parents knew early on of his tendencies, but in their attempt to keep it hushed, it only made his lust for blood stronger in anticipation.

His body was slowly morphing back to a human resemblance, albeit with wildly un-groomed hair and a tee/shorts combo drenched in blood and goop. Marc was clever enough to grab a few items before busting through Mark's bedroom window, including a change of clothes, a notebook, his wallet, and a pen.

After rustling around in the leaves as he swapped clothing, he stood up and dusted the nature off of his legs. The jeans he grabbed blindly from Mark's dresser fit fine, but the shirt was a bit over-sized for his frail body. Marc slipped the pen and pocket notebook in his back pocket, and Mark's wallet in the other.

Grunting, Marc messily buried his previous clothes beneath some soil and many dead leaves. It was getting dark, and soon it would be hard to see. He wasn't sure where he was, as he just ran until he found a secluded area, but hoped he was near society. He ached as he steadied himself onto his feet, his injured arm fading into sickly purples and greens

"Damn Mark, he just had to get in the way," Marc scoffed to himself, "It's a shame he's so naive, trusting me."

**Aren't you naive for relying on him, dear?**

The actor gasped softly, whipping his head around in confusion. "Who said that? Show yourself!"

People say that 'you should be careful what you wish for,' but Marc only took that advice seriously in this moment. A dark shadow-like figure appeared in front of him with a grin. It was Celene. He was blinded from the real his surroundings with pure nothingness.

"Celene?" he shuddered, stepping backwards, "Get away from me!"

**Oh, hush. You know I'm not the real Celene. But that's worse, isn't it?.**

"No, you're not anyone, real or not! You're j- just a voice in my head!"

 **Oh indeed, a voice I am, but isn't it ironic? I'm just a part of you!** The voice cackled around him, sounding like the screech was coming from everywhere. The colors came back; ghoulish figures and shapes that flashed brightly against the actor's aching pupils. It wasn't as intense as the car ride incident, but still harmed Marc.

He curled in on himself, snapping his eyes shut without hesitation. He could still hear her wails of joy for his suffering.

Suddenly it all stopped. He popped open his eyes, cautiously looking around at the seemingly normal scene around him.

 **Oh, and in case I don't see you tomorrow? Good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight, love.** The voice echoed distantly as the sounds of soft winds flushed in the back of his mind. It was over.

_She won't win against me. She won't be able to harm me any longer soon enough._

He took a step forward, choosing a random direction in hopes that it was a city. He had to start somewhere.

\---

_The monster stalked around an endless back abyss, covered in the deathly grime. Yet, his body wasn’t as beastly... He was human. He seemed to be walking aimlessly until his legs gave out. Arin appeared in front of him, clearly not part of what felt like a memory. Arin seemed exhausted, and in a crazed state, eventually staring at Dan. Dan heard his muffled voice but couldn’t quite make out what was being said to him. It wasn’t like he could move, or interact in any way, no matter how hard he tried. But then, as he seemed to be giving up, Arin started screaming his lungs raw._

With a bolt, Dan was ripped out of the memory and into a pulsing white light.

Dan lay immobile against warm sheets, a painfully bright light staring down at his shaken body. Last night had become mostly a blur; an ambulance, detectives, Mark yelling about... something, and holding Arin's hand as he rode his way to the hospital. The injuries were more serious than Dan's state of shock had made them feel.

The sterile smell of syringes and fresh linen tickled Dan's nose as he stirred awake, not fully aware of where he was. One eye blinked open as the other lagged behind, but he was now staring at his body entangled in tubes. He had an IV running medicine into him, along with other miscellaneous wires and devices. His body ached and his head was obscured in a cloudy feeling.

"Oh Dan, you're awake! You really scared me man."

He shifted his eyes to the left, finding Mark sitting in the guest chair.

"What... Where am I?" he mumbled, resting his hand on his head as he groaned in pain.

Mark stood up slowly to go by Dan's side. "You and Arin got attacked, remember? And we went to the hospital because you were bleeding pretty bad. How are you feeling?"

"Stop talkin' so fast," he slurred, most likely a bit high on the medicine and painkillers. "My head hurts real badddd..." he hovered on the last word, brain malfunctioning in an attempt to continue his sentence.

Mark tsked, "Jesus, you're really out of it," as he thumbed the 'nurse call' button next to the bedside subtly, trying not to get Dan anxious by doing so. "Sorry you're not doing well buddy, but you really saved Arin there."

Dan recalled a blurry instance of the creature attempting to kill Arin, as Dan fought him off. Arin. Where was Arin again?

"Wait, where's Arin?"

Mark didn't answer immediately, only parting his mouth in thought, which gave the sickly man a bump of nerves. "Mark, is he okay? Where is he?"

Mark sighed, leaning into Dan a bit closer. "He's not in critical condition or anything, but he's not doing so well either. He keeps vomiting that... goop. The doctors tested it and said they have never seen anything like it. He keeps panicking and flailing around anytime he's conscious, but he shouldn't be in that much pain according to his nurse. He keeps yelling stuff but we have no idea what he's saying."

"Because of the goo?" Dan whispered.

"Yeah, the stuff is basically clogging his airways, but they're slowly cleaning it out. If you hadn't helped him, he wouldn't have made it."

"Mark, what did it sound like he was saying?"

Mark glanced at the other man, confused, but answered slowly, "Well I'm not sure, but it might have been something about memories? It was like... 'He saw in the memory’, although that’s a stretch. Does that have any meaning?"

Dan saw another flash of their attacker, but it was different. He was in some sort of robe, and looked even more humanoid, but it was surely him. His hair was done nicely against his skin that glistened in the warm lights. Arin wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but Dan could almost hear echoes of screaming around the scene. Arin's screams. It was a blur of seemingly nothing, but it was enough for Dan.

"Mark, I have to see him. I have to see him right now. I think something's wrong in his head, but I think he needs me," Dan nearly shouted, eyes wide as he shuffled around for an escape from his bed. Mark pushed him back down.

"Woah, calm down man. You need rest, and the nurses will be here any minute to check on you." As if on a cue, the nurse knocked on the door and entered to check up on Dan.

"Hi there, it's good to see you awa-"

"I NEED TO SEE HIM MARK!" he snapped, in full panic-mode. He had an idea that something was seriously wrong with Arin.

"I'm sorry," Mark mentioned to the nurse, "He's really out of it. Is there any way he can see Arin?"

The nurse grimaced for a moment, before speaking, "We can try to get him over there if he's able to stand, but we'd rather him wait."

"I don't think he can," Mark nodded back to the other, surprised to find him hyperventilating. "Woah dude, take deep breaths. We're gonna see him, okay?"

Dan attempted to calm down, gulping his fear down as he tearily nodded to the clearly exhausted man. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm being an asshat. Acting like a pussy."

"Hey, none of that. We're all in a sticky situation here, and you were the arguably the bravest. Can you stand?"

The trio made their way to the halls, Dan's thin and lanky body being practically dragged by his determined feet. His IV wheeled behind him as he toddled his way down a few hallways to Arin's room. After opening the door, a tear fell from his cheek.

Arin looked absolutely miserable from head to toe. The bags under the man's drooping eyes were almost black, as his oily face was wrapped by messy strands of hair. His breathing was hoarse, with a tube down his throat and eyebrows in a twist of pain. He was curled up in a blanket. Suzy sat beside him, clearly having been crying.

"No... No Arin I-" Dan choked back a sob. He would have thought Arin to be dead if his heart monitor wasn't beeping obnoxiously in the background. It was as horrifying as what looking at his corpse would have been. He stumbled forward next to Suzy, who enveloped him in a loose hug. Whether she didn't have the energy for a tight one, or she had the foresight to know a tight hug would have hurt Dan's healing body was unclear.

"He's okay... just, he isn't himself. Even in pain he usually tries to crack jokes or insist he's okay," Suzy said shakily, "But he just keeps flipping out every time he wakes up. He can't even adknowledge me. I can't begin to think of what he's seeing in his head."

"Memories."

"What are these memories you keep talking about, Dan?" Mark questioned, sliding next to him.

"When I woke up I saw one of the monster-man's memories from before he died. I don't know how I know that but... I just do. I saw him in one. He was trying to talk to me. I think he's seeing a lot more than me, he might be stuck in them. He might think he's really with that man."

"Holy shit, for real Dan?" Suzy gasped.

"Y- yeah. You need to wake him up. I think I can snap him out of it," He mumbled, fidgeting with his fingernails.

"Um, okay, wake him up then. But if he doesn't wake, there isn't much we can do, Dan," Mark explained, nodding to the nurse standing nearby for confirmation.

Dan ignored him, shaking Arin's arm slightly to stir him awake. "Arin, wake up."

He pushed a little harder, whisper-shouting, "Please Arin, I need you to wake up." Arin groaned an almost inaudible noise.

After a few more attempts, Arin shot awake, choking on his throat tube. He began to look around in distress, grabbing Dan's shoulders and latching onto him. He began to breathe heavily and flail.

Dan gripped Arin's face as the nurse rushed to hold down his arms, forcing his cries to cease. He turned Arin's head to face him. Arin's eyes were pitch black, and oozing uncontrollably. "Arin, I need you to wake up. You're not that man, you're Arin Hanson. You know me man, it's Danny! I need you man, please!" He was nearly crying as he spat out his words. Arin was clearly in pain from something more severe... something possibly fatal.

Arin took shallow breaths, the goop clearing and his eyes finally focusing on Dan's. “..‘anny," he sniffled, "Help m.. me."

Dan simply hopped onto Arin's bed, despite the nurse's protests. He struggled against the IV stand’s pull, and mess of wires both of them adorned, but eventually sat flat on the sheets next to Arin, grasping his hand as the man’s eyes pleaded in pain.

They sat close as Arin’s tears waterfalled from his face, but he wasn't making much noise. Suzy ran her fingers through his hair. He was practically hysterical- high on the pain and morphine -but seemed to be holding back as to not cause a scene. Dan plastered a dead stare onto his face, unsure of what to say. He turned his head to Mark and Suzy, Arin continuing to hack out more phlegm.

Mark and Suzy both had uncomfortable looks on their faces. Even the nurse grimaced at the toxic substances Arin was coughing up. The group had never seen Arin so vulnerable. Nobody had.

It was a while before the grump cleared his throat, and spoke.

"Dan; Suzy... God, it hurts... I saw what he did."

This was going to be a long recovery.


End file.
